-- William Gibson, All Tomorrow's Parties
There was lettuce inspectors at the salad bar today.
They was POKIN at it with IMPLEMENTS.
There wasn't any beepin' stuff, though, and no blinkin' lights, so I don't think they was from the govment.
I wonder what them salad people done to deserve the pokin'.
A Girl's Guide to Geek Guys is awesomely incorrect on almost every point.
If it were called "A Girl's Guide to Fucking Losers", I would care much less.
I am very tired.
Today was Day One (for humans who aren't Sophy and Adam) of the much-feared Mass Wedding Event. A traditional (or near enough) Cambodian wedding which is taking place a week after their civil ceremony. So they've technically been married for a week now, but until this whole thing is over, they aren't effectively married.
I'm not really sure I'm conscious enough now, or ever will be again, to describe today in any detail, so I will just ramble. I am sure you are very surprised by this sudden change in my story-telling.
Yesterday I was supposed to be off from work. But ha ha, the CTO had other plans and came and picked me up. I spent the day accomplishing nothing, certainly not what he wanted me to fix. I get home, try to convince Pete to come with me to Men's Wearhouse, fail, and go by myself. Run into merz at Wawa, then everyone else on the corner. Adam reminds me that Liz's show is that (Friday) night. I say I'll be there as soon as possible (though this is in Bryan-time, which everyone knows is massively unreliable), and go to the suit store. I procure a suit with very little effort. I go home. Pete and I go to Liz's show at Nexus, which is awesome and had what appeared to me to be an Extreme Turnout.
Andrew asks me how work is going, and something snaps, and I start yelling "Fuck you! Fuck you!" while pointing and waving at nothing in particular. Andrew is extremely amused by this, the breaker pops, and I quickly calm back down.
Then dinner at Aoi, which had some pretty awesome beef teriyaki. I will have to take Ricardo and Gloria the next time they come down.
Everyone else went to Mom's but I bitched out, as usual, and came home to sleep, as I suspected the ceremony would be not incredibly comfortable.
Got up early, went and got a haircut. The woman told me I looked like Doogie Howser, which is something I haven't heard in a few years but is apparently still true. Picked up a couple roses for Michelle, as in some technical world we were supposed to be going to the wedding as a date($rand). Got home, took a shower, and then sat around. Mm. Sitting. After the rest of the day, I would look back on that sitting with much fondness.
Michelle showed up at Pete and my place a little over an hour before we needed to be at Sophy's (at 1400), with Mihai in tow as he was kind enough to offer us a ride to South South Philly. We took time getting dressed, sat around watching the first twenty minutes of Akira, and there was some point-taking with regards to our DVD collections.
Get to Sophy's. Stand around for two hours waiting for the band to show up.
Band shows up at 1600. A bunch of stuff happens and obviously none of the white people have a fucking clue what is going on. There is paper which describe the proceedings, and we read it, but it continues to avoid making sense. I suspect the paper was laced with a narcotic of some sort. There is someone from Sophy's work who looks like a young, very tall, Mathew Broderick, but apparently he is not a genetically altered clone, but a guy named Br[i,y]an. I mention it because I think he felt left out of us standing around talking to each other, which is never a fun person to be.
Time passes. It is hot, uncomfortable, loud, no idea what anyone is saying, but it remains somehow mesmerizing. I think the amount of pain and discomfort Sophy and Adam are in is somewhat akin to watching an autopsy, only much less pretty. There is an enormous amount of food sitting in the living room (the dowry; the Groom's, I believe) and Pete is staring at is as he has not eaten. Pete when he doesn't eat is sort of scary.
Eventually we all go outside and they hand the dishes (there are two of everything) to people. Michelle and I were handed chickens. Or duck. Or some fucking thing. Later, Liz told me they still had their heads on but I somehow failed to notice this fact and was suitably freaked out by it. Evan and Andrew get plates with bottles of Pepsi lashed to them, which we decide is meant to signify sugar. We all get lined up, in pairs, and walked back into the house with the food. Traditionally, the groom's family would have brought all this food and we wouldn't have been already in the house to start with. However, Adam's family being Italian, we all agreed that it was unlikely pasta was what Sophy's family was going for.
There was some music, some talking. There was much reverb. The band managed to fix the reverb for the talking, but the talking guy demanded the reverb be brought back, and thus it was.
I don't remember a whole lot. We all kept each other amused by making faces at Adam, Sophy and Eric (who was the Groom's Dude, I have no clue what the terminology would be, but he had to dress up like Aladdin, too, so).
Then there was The Pretend Hair Cutting, Signifying Some Stuff. I tried to get Michelle to go up with me to Pretend Cut Adam and Sophy's Hair, but she was having none of it, so Liz and I did it instead. As did many other people. Sophy's mother was apparently afraid Pete was going to actually cut Adam's hair and almost took the scissors away from him. There was also a little bottle of perfume that you weren't actually supposed to spray, just act like it, but everyone was spraying it. The smell apparently made Eric incredibly nauseous as he looked like he was going to vomit for a while.
There was also a little mirror so you could show the bride and groom how well you pretend cutted their hair. When Adam's father showed him the mirror, all the non-Cambodian people laughed, thinking it was just Adam's dad being funny, as apparently he has an awesome sense of humor, but no, it was actually part of the ceremony. I didn't feel like an ass laughing, though. Humor was needed.
I told Adam and Sophy they looked fabulous and absolutely gorgeous while wiggling the mirror around to make it impossible to see the hair Liz hadn't cut off them. They looked like they needed a fucking laugh is what, but more like they needed to get out of there.
Eventually more stuff happened, but I don't remember much of it. We went to Sonoco for stuff and there was food brought out at some point. I didn't eat any of it, figuring it would probably be an ungood idea. Undoubtably I was correct, thought it certainly smelled good.
Then there were pictures, which was entertaining. We finally got out a little after 1830, I think. Not sure on the time. Adam and Sophy didn't actually get done until 2130 and 220 respectively.
Everyone else (Boston Nick, NYC Jason, Irene, Liz, Andrew, Evan, Pete and myself; Maggie, Matt and Kyle also came out) went to the Diner for dinner. I destroyed a salad, cheesesteak, and a just about all of a piece of cake. Fucking starved.
Except for all the uncomfortableness and how obviously unhappy Adam and Sophy were (her family is insisting on all of this), it was an interesting day. I like having any excuse to see people I never, or rarely, get to see (Nick, Jason; Michelle, which is kind of sad), but it would be awesome if we didn't have to sit around for six hours to do it.
And tomorrow is another five hours, then the reception tomorrow night.
There's other stuff I'm sure I'm forgetting to mention. A lot of amusing comments, which is why I enjoy hanging out with these meatbags, and some other stuff I will be beaten for repeating.
I require the sleep now. Must be out of here early to get to Ceremony of Doom Part II by 0900.
Thank god Monday is a fucking holiday, or there would be extreme amounts of unhappiness spilling out of my skull and burning holes in things.
(Everyone likes wombats.)
I just took the best nap ever. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but man, I rock for whatever it was.
Got up at 0700 this morning, laid in bed for a while. Eventually Pete stuck his head through the door and said he wasn't feeling well, so I was probably on my own for the wedding stuff this morning. I stumbled out of bed, showered, called Liz, and we took a cab down to Sophy's. Michelle called mid-route and informed us that nothing had started yet, so being thirty minutes late wasn't a big deal.
Harry was there, and a couple more people I didn't know. And Jim. Jim in a suit. I didn't recognize him at first. Fucker cleans up damn well.
There was more ceremony stuff, with the music, and a lot of dinging today. There was some dancy, some walking around.
People tied string to Adam and Sophy's wrists, and eventually we got to throw little rice things at them, which we stripped off the stalk ourselves. Very odd.
Some old woman threw her stalks at Nick and I.
There was this little kid who needed a spanking. Or a swatting. Or a damn Ritalin martini. He ran into me about a dozen times, and kept laying around all over the floor. While extremely annoying, apparently the faces I was making kept everyone around me amused.
They gave Adam a little sword, which Adam told Eric: "This is the sword I kill my in-laws with." Then there was more walking around then we pretty much all fitlered outside; Michelle, Liz and I hung around for a few minutes, then made a break for it.
Tonight is the reception. I have a s/toast/roast/ half-prepared. Apparently Adam's brother Scott has the same idea. I should discuss it with him beforehand. Tonight is also, apparently, formal, so I will be Suiting back up. Fear my sexy suitness. I know you fear it.
Michelle also made "I am so completely average noises". I kept my mouth shut today, as last night I got yelled at for making other noises. I'll probably be getting yelled at for making those other noises shortly enough, however.
Now I need to work on my toast and possibly find something to snack on.
Pete and I headed down to the restaurant a few minutes early, got seated, and sat around watching all the crazy stuff going on. Sophy and Adam were pinning flowers on people as they came in, there were many people taking pictures, kids were running around. It was pretty chaotic.
There was much fooding, twelve courses in all, most of which was seafood, so I didn't eat a whole lot. A chicken came out with its head still attached, and Jason (asm) made a disturbing little sculpture out of it.
A full fish, empty inside, but with all sorts of stuff baked onto it and cherry eyes came out. Adam's little brother Dane walked up to our table, saw the fish, and made a face that caused me to laugh for a good two minutes.
Pete is completely enamored, to put it politely, with Cambodian/Asian women now.
The band was painfully loud, Cambodians do this thing that looks like Hawaiian hula dancing (the thing with the hands), but only in lines. Hula line dancing. Or in circles. Watching a bunch of Italians do this was completely hilarious. Watching Cambodians boogy down while Italians dance around with mad American style through their lines was also pretty awesome.
Adam's brother Scott gave a toast which was completely offensive, and pretty entertaining. He kept skipping pages, which he later came back and read to us. I didn't get a chance to give my toast at the reception, as there wasn't really any time between all the incredibly loud music, dancing, eating, and finally the cake cutting and boquet throwing.
All in all, I think it was exceedingly cool. Sophy looked amazing in her wedding dress.
After the reception, we all managed to get over to Adam's to sit around for four hours for drinking and laughing. It was pretty fucking awesome. I smoked way too many cigarettes with Eric.
Adam busted out the champagne (which was astoundingly awful, I gave my glass to Nick who, while a trooper and drank it, was making Faces the entire time), and I gave my toast. There were many interruptions, those bastards, but I think it was received well. The text follows. Unfortunately for Michelle I didn't manage to record it, which is a pity, because the comments while I was giving it were very entertaining.
First, I'd like to thank Adam for bestowing upon me the privilege of carrying a chicken in yesterday's dowry parade. It was very exciting. And heavy. Unfortunately, my fellow chicken-bearer couldn't be in attendance tonight.
I've known Adam and Sophy for a few years now. Adam and I have seen each other in good and bad times, some of which involved handguns or too far much alcohol, but luckily never both at the same time, and I'm proud to have witnessed the last couple days. As a career bachelor, I'm sure I only know a fraction of the trials and tribulations they've faced to get to this point; the dragons slain, the mountains moved, the rivers re-routed. And here they are, through the rings of fire and over the pits filled with Kevlar-adorned venomous monkeys.
I'm incredibly proud of both of them.
Now... THAT said, Adam can be absolutely intolerable at times. Anyone here who knows me knows that I am a man of infinite patience, but somehow Adam has the singular facility of pissing me off at the drop of a hat. He can be pedantic, long-winded, disgusting, overly detailed, and needlessly perverse. And when he gets VERY drunk, he gives incredibly awful advice -- like telling his poor drunk friend he should go home with a 40 year old woman -- or tries to pay people to throw potato salad at other people. Which I, as an Irishman, find morally repugnant.
Sophy is OBVIOUSLY an angel.
However, there is a thread of decency that binds Adam together, and resonates with a similar thread in Sophy. Something that pulls them together, strengthens them, and drives them to better themselves as human beings, for themselves and for each other. The last few days have been, if nothing else, a testament to the strength of that bond.
And it's that thread, that will to be a better man, that requires me to consider Adam a worthwhile human being and a good friend despite hearing the same poop jokes dozens of times.
There should be something here about a successful marriage, or something, blah blah blah.
And so, Adam, Sophy, may your marriage age like a fine wine: May you gain clarity, and may you spend plenty of time horizontal.
Got home around 0345, and now I'm going to read for a little while, try to ignore the cigarette smell on my hands, and then sleep for a day or two.
In the world I see - you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying strips of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighway.
Well here is me on tragedy
I always want what's out of reach
She pulls dyed black hair back and sighs
fuck that night out with the guys
I never get a word in with them, anyway.
The telephone doesn't scare me anymore
And I am here alone
Always stupidly sarcastic
my hyper - spastic superhero girl.
So break the bruised monogamy
and let him fade to memory
And your erotic wet atomic eyes
keep reoccuring in my mind
Do me a favor please
and touch your lips to mine.
The telephone doesn't scare me anymore
And I am here alone my dear
Always stupidly sarcastic
my hyper - spastic superhero girl.
Things that broke today:
- Several workstations randomly stopped seeing the AppleTalk network.
- I fixed this by going into Network Browser, then back into Chooser. Unfortunately, one of the machines continued to just lock up when a server was accessed. Then it stopped. Just randomly. I've jokingly said that Macs (OS9) are things that sometimes Stop Working, and will then Start Working again without reason. Now I'm not joking. Fuck Mac OS <X.
- When the NetServer a month ago, it was because the RAID5 array had been running in a degraded (one disk dead) state for perhaps a year. Then a second disk died. So we sent it in to get the array recovered. It came back, no problem, except that all the metadata is now gone, probably hidden somewhere on the root drive on the NetServer itself (I assume Windows would keep that information there, and as there are no dotfiles on the recovered disk, I guess I'm born out there), but I can't get at it because I don't have the fucking keys to the machine, and obviously it won't boot without a keyboard when the array is fucked.
- I can edit the files manually in resedit, solios informs me, but there are over a hundred thousand files. I guess I get to learn how to script on OS 9 . Though, I can't think of a reason I couldn't do this on OS X... Hm... Monday.
I could go on. And on. And on. I was so full of rage by the time I left the office, I decided it would be a good idea to walk the 20 blocks from the train station to my apartment in an attempt to wear myself out. Unfortunately, I decided to walk down South St., while listening to NIN's "All That Could Have Been" way too loudly.
So now I'm tired, full of rage, and my ears are ringing.
Went downstairs a half hour ago, realizing I'd forgotten to kick a sleeping Pete off the couch to go pick up his suit for yet another wedding this weekend. Instead, there's a note on the coffee table:
Have a horrible weekend fuckhead. - Pete
Made me laugh.
Now I need to figure out what the hell do to with myself this weekend.
Just finished Perfect Circle by Sean Stewart. Yet another whim purchase gone right. Started it last night, and considering how little free time I've had the last few weeks, it's a quick read.
Very good read. Not as spooky as they try to make it sound. Stewart grabs you with his characters, very well-written, even (or perhaps especially) the dead ones. Falling in love with AJ would have been too easy for anyone, Texas kissin' cousins or no.
Extremely enjoyable read.
I'm glad Evan and Hil are okay.
I would not be a happy monkey if Evan managed to get his silly ass capped in a fucking MCDONALD'S ROBBERY.
People. I dunno sometimes.
Correcting for the time it takes the world to turn, I'll be twenty-five in about six hours. Since I'm not going to be awake to bitch about it then -- hopefully, assuming I don't get a call from work dragging me out of beautiful unconsciousness -- I figured I would whine about it now.
Then I thought, what really do I have to whine about?
I have a job. I have a place to live and a roommate whose throat I don't want to rip out. I have friends, and things to do. Books to read. My family is all healthy, knock on wood.
Of course, sitting over in the negative pile are a lot of things I consider more important than most of that. Ambition. The willpower to finish anything I start. A girl.
Mostly I lack willpower. Self-discipline I have, for the habits I'm entrenched in, but no willpower for new habits or new disciplines.
So looking around, I'm twenty-five and don't have fuckall to show for it. No real idea on how to get that far, either.
What I need are some birthday monkeys to give me a swift Converse-covered kick in the ass to help me figure out what I need, what I want, and how to get it.
If I remember correctly, Michelle promised birthday monkeys. So?
Started this last week. Been staring at it since, making no progress. I don't expect to, so...
Since I'm in the mood for sharing.
This was supposed to turn into a short short about hunting chupacabra. I intended on doing actual research into the so-called mythos, but then, amazingly, I stopped caring. I am the awesome like that.
Eating beef jerky for breakfast is pretty awesome, though not something I want to do regularly.
Getting no sleep last night was not awesome. The sheets my mother sent me for my birthday, however, are pretty awesome.
Coming in and having a drive I was working with last night, before turning the machine off, and having that drive dead, is not awesome at all.
Watching NTFS compile is about the most entertaining thing ever, whereby "entertaining" I mean it's like punching myself in the nuts every two minutes, to commemorate a percent formatted.
Except for Adam and Sophy getting back into town tonight from their honeymoon, I can't think of a single thing I have to look forward to today, except going home and sleeping.
(Whoever guesses where the post's title is from gets to cockpunch me for being a big pussy.)
Sister Soul came to see me, and she made no amends
On the air, Sunday's midnight, Sister Soul understands
Pull the shades, let it rain all day
Radio station plays Mr. John Coltrane's Favourite Things
Lady Day she sings
That I don't stand the ghost of a chance with you
Beautiful stranger, now it's just me and you
Brush the dust off the needle, put it deep in the groove
Pull the shades, let it rain all day
Radio station plays Mr. Miles Davis' kind of Blue
And I know it's true
That I don't stand the ghost of a chance with you
Cold and gray, it's gonna rain all day
Sarah Vaughan lingers on, but the black coffee's gone
And I hate to say goodbye
But I don't stand the ghost of a chance with you now
With you now, with you now, with you now,
Primitive Radio Gods
I could install a cluster of UNIX machines with a pair of tweezers and a magnet faster than I can do a single Windows workstation install.
I'm going to laugh pretty hard if this machine gets owned by some host on the LAN I missed in last week's annual Trojaned Bitch sweep before I get it updated.
...and then I'd go the hell home.
Adam and Sophy flew back into Philly last night from the mean streets of San Fran, looking tired but, I think, much more relaxed than when they left. Adam called as their plane was taxiing and woke my ass up (from a dream where I was at the diner with him, annoyingly enough) from a nap. I called Andrew, and we agreed to meet up around 1930.
Michelle called, surprising me, and I wandered up to the Diner a bit early. She gave me a birthday monkey, which is pretty awesome. I think I'm going to name him Smack da Monkey. It seems Jhonen-esque. Also, I wore the monkey on my back as we walked back to my apartment, so the name will work on multiple levels. Pictures will be forthcoming.
Dinner was entertaining, though Michelle had to bail early to nominally get work done. Over their honeymoon, Sophy got her hair cut and dyed it. Contrary to everyone insisting it looked awesome, she decided to dye it brown again. Even the clerk at CVS where she bought the brown dye said she should leave it red.
I'll be spending the better portion of the day at a client site, theoretically doing a network and systems audit.
This should be entertaining.
I have an Xserve waiting in my office today.
And a lot of broken stuff that threatens to drown me in its brokeness.
The weights don't tip that far.
Went and saw Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow tonight with Adam, Sophy and Sophia. Very entertaining flick, sort of Flash Gordon without the awesome suck (though I really enjoy that movie as well).
Thankfully they cut back on the fuzzy "newspaper" effect about five minutes into the movie. Seeing as how we were in the third row it was especially annoying.
If you can ignore some silly plotholes you should have a good time. And what else are you gonna ask for?
If you only see one fabumazing piece of Finnish theatre this year, make sure it's Star Wreck.
You must watch the trailer.
As I did absolutely nothing productive all day, I decided to punish myself by going and seeing THX 1138 at the Bourse.
It was incredibly bad. And while it was digitally remastered for audio and had a decent amount of CG lumped in, they apparently didn't feel the need to make it digitally not blow.
Also, there's a part where THX is watching a little holovision, and one of the robot cops is beating on some poor drone. The noise of the smacking and the drone grunting is, I think, the same noise that kicks off NIN's The Downward Spiral: Mr Self Destruct.
Could be wrong on that, and no one's ever mentioned it before. But it sounds exactly the same.
Unless you're really interested in seeing where Lucas's very few neat cinematic touches originated (the two Stormtroopers talking on the gangway in the Death Star, for instance), really, really, don't bother.
Doing this also reminded me why I hate going to movies alone so much.
Went to see Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence last night with Pete, Sophy and Adam. It was good. A couple things annoyed the hell out of me, but overall I enjoyed myself a great deal.
I would have preferred that instead of quoting philosophers they would have had the characters say things. I suppose this is too much to ask.
I'm also a huge fan of strong female leads, and to me, that's what GITS is. It's about Kusanagi. I like Batou, he's a really cool character, but damnit... he isn't the Major. She shows up near the end, partially, and seems more or less still Motoko even after pulling a Wintermute/Neuromancer.
I also felt that the film lost a lot of focus as soon as they left for the northern territorties. A couple of transisitional sequences would have helped a lot there.
The set, vehicle and character designs are all as I expected after watching two seasons of the series. Production I.G. does not disappoint.
A very beautiful film. Full of itself. But amazing to watch.
Pete insisted we head to the mall early as System of the World came out yesterday and I had mentioned I wanted to pick up a copy.
They didn't have that, but they did have the last Dark Tower book, which is fucking huge. It is weighted with explanations, I hope.
I had completely forgotten that it was due out... so happy.
I don't want to be at work. I want to be home reading.
I hate not having anything to look forward to.
I hate looking forward to something only to have it blocked by everything else.
If you had to make a list of the things you could do, today, and tomorrow, and the day after, to make yourself a happier person, how long would that list be?
I have an ext3 drive with 119G of junk on it that I'd like to feed onto this XRAID we just got. Of course, doing that over a network will take ages, so being able to read ext2 from Mac OS X would be pretty keen.
Thanks to ejp for the link.
Today was a good day. The plan was for me to come up to Bethlehem Friday night for the start of the Celtic Classic festival, but work interfered. So Saturday morning, I got up at 0500, showered, dressed, called a cab. Saw a squirrel running along phone lines, no doubt going about some evil machinations. Saw a Deer Park water bottle full of what appeared to be urine sitting on a sewer grate at 9th and Spruce. Sat in the Greyhound station for an hour or so, trying to read The Dark Tower while a woman sat next to me prattling in Spanish on her cell phone so fast it was almost impossible to recognize as language.
The brief pauses as she listened to the few words whoever she was conversing with could get in before reattaching to whatever ranting thread she was spinning out.
Eventually the bus comes, and I get on, and try to sleep against the constant droning of some woman boring (I can only imagine he was just being polite) the hell out of the bus driver. Reiterating her points over and over, such as they were, using minutely changed phrasing and then agreeing with herself.
Get to the Allentown station, climb into the car with Gloria and Rik, and almost fall asleep. Hang out for a bit at their apartment, then decide to head out for the parade. As we're walking up the street, we run into John and his girlfriend, M. (whose name I am not going to try to spell). Good timing. We go and watch the parade. Many drunk men in skirts playing bag pipes. A number of school bands are also in attendance. Several convertible PT Cruisers are in the parade as well, which was somewhat jarring. The drivers all looked to be car salesmen. Slicked back hair, the works.
Eventually we made our way to the festival itself. I had a meat pie of some sort. There was some dancing. Some cupar tossing and weigth for height throwing. Unfortunately we couldn't actually see the guys tossing the cupars; the crowd was so thick we saw only what appeared to be telephone poles moving under their own power, and sometimes, if they wanted it enough, jumping into the air, and possibly spinning when they hit the ground.
I got sunburned, which is something that hasn't happened in ages.
Went to go see Shaun of the Dead, which I highly recommend, even if you aren't into zombie movies. It was all sorts of funny.
There were two kids that sat in our row who had to be trying to look like Jay and Silent Bob. If they weren't, they must have been lost, because Jersey is miles and miles from here.
The Seed of Chucky preview ended on a line that made Rik, Gloria and I groan: "GET A LOAD OF CHUCKY." Awesome.
Went to the Golden Gate Diner (which, as Rik found out after asking the owner after our meal, was named after the Greek Golden Gate to Heaven, and not after the fact that much Bethlehem steel went into the Golden Gate Bridge; as always I love when names work on multiple levels, so I was very amused) for dinner. I ate too much, but seeing as how I had a small meat pie and three tacos in the last two days, I'm not too worried about it.
I am unhappy that neither Pete or Michelle got to hang out with the tildekids today, as it's such a good, relaxing group. C'est la whatever, I suppose.
Time to read some more Dark Tower, and then sleep. I'm about two hundred pages from the end... and I'm scared of what King is doing. I don't know that it's bad. But it isn't good.
Mostly I'm afraid it may be right...
Fighting with OS X Server is something I have decided I do not enjoy.
There are two problems:
- The tools suck.
- I don't entirely understand how OpenDirectory is interfacing with those tools. Because changes made in one tool doesn't seem to actually propagate into Actual Use, even though it's Apparently Working. So not cool.
So who's stupid? Me or the software?
A little from column A, a little from column B...
I am a little bit of loneliness a little bit of disregard
Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact that everybody can see
I am what I want you to want what I want you to feel
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you, to just believe
this is real
So I let go, watching you, turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend that I'm not
But I'll be here cause you want what I've got
I am a little bit insecure a little unconfident
Cause you don't understand I do what I can but sometimes I don't make
I say what you never wanna say but I've never had a doubt
It's like no matter what I do I can't convince you for once just to hear
So I let go watching you turn your back like you always do
Face away and pretend that I'm not
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I've got
I can't feel
I won't be ignored
Time won't heal
Don't turn your back on me
I won't be ignored
Just got home from work. Walked to and from the respective stations, what has been oft referred to as angry white boy music deafening me.
Tired, hungry and more than a little sweaty now.
Felt good to just walk, though.
Debating on food, reading, or maybe staring at my notebook until I fall asleep. The latter is becoming a habit.
I just closed the last page of The Dark Tower, but the spine is creased slightly and the back cover keeps coming open, revealing the illustration of Roland standing under a dead tree, its limbs twisting, suggesting a certain number... and Roland is holding a watch, and while you can't see them, a key, a rose, and a tower are engraved on the lid.
Thirty-four years later, and while I was afraid of the ending, I think, really think, that what King did was right.
It doesn't make it any less cruel, or less sad, but because he's Stephen King, and because no doubt he doesn't want to field any more angry fanmail than he has to, there is that little glimmer of hope...
How long was I waiting for this?
There was an old woman dying of cancer than wrote King once (I think this was in the afterword for Wizard and Glass), asking him to tell her how Roland's quest would end, because she didn't want to die without knowing. King, of course, had no clue how the quest would end. No idea at all.
I don't know how stories can become this important to us. Through all their flaws and crass prose, through the repetition, there is still something kindling, something that burns through and sets everything on fire. All I know is that more than anything I wish I could write something that would grab hold of someone so much it would be one of their dying wishes (ignoring just how fucked up that sounds, eh?) to learn how it all comes out.
There are no real happy endings... but then, in a truly good story, there aren't really any endings at all, are there?
Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.
Pete has been spamming at me to read the Fire and Ice series for a while now, and I suspect I'll eventually get around to it.
Nothing that Martin says in the FAQ is anything I haven't heard before, but repetition enforces understanding, and might eventually breed habit...
[via Pete, whose domain I will never be able to spell, or pronounce.]
A pretty awesome article about the tech google uses to do what google does.
I wish I had the big shiny toys, and the brain to use 'em.